Hugging herself she sat on the window sill.
Looking across the valley.
Gazing beyond the horizon that deceives you into believing that the sky can meet the land.
It wasn’t a silent evening. It wasn’t noisy either.
Few can hear that which the wind speaks.
And for them, melancholy was the tune of the day. And she was one of them.
The sky was dark with clouds ready to cry.
She sat hearing the clouds being chased away by the wind.
The land wasn’t parched, but ever greedy for rain.
She sat pondering if this land deserves the rain.
But it never rained here. Not in this greedy valley nourished by the river.
She had seen dark clouds pass her by ever since forever.
The wind knew better. And so did she.
She wouldn’t break down. She wouldn’t lose hope.
She wouldn’t fulfill their wish to see her cry.
She was like those clouds.
Those clouds that never rained.
~Almas Kiran Shamim